Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20
She’d had her asshole licked by drunken frat boys. Drunkenly youthful men who’d lined their heads up behind her ass like animals at a trough, their tongues rhythmically lapping up and down, slipping and sliding between pussy and anus.
She sucked dick. Not like a priss either; she took all sorts, no cock too hairy, no smell too strong. And for the guys she liked – after she’d let them thrust their dicks in and out of her tight, little asshole for a couple of pumps – she’d suck them clean without a second thought.
Today was a slightly nerve racking day for Lacey. The whorish alcohol fueled nights of college debauchery had been put on hold, temporarily. After making the long drive north from her large, southern, state college, she’d eased her SUV into the circular driveway of her parents New England home. And thus began her winter vacation.
The town, small and quite, belied the sleazy undercurrent of the neighboring city that ebbed and flowed each morning and evening with the tide of men who commuted back and forth along the rail lines. What they did in the city was, to their wives, only vaguely understood as “business.” And to the husband’s the wife’s toil was equally opaque. This was the world into which Lacey was born.
The nights had grown long as the days receded, and the cold blistery winds, only intensified by the absence of sun, whistled through the girl’s wavy brown hair as she stepped out of the car. The air gusted under her fleece and stabbed through her tight, black yoga pants sending a chill down her spine. Her bladder was full after hours of driving, and a nervous energy coiled through her core. Leaving her bags in the car, she walked to the side door and rang circular, glowing doorbell.
She heard a muffled sound of movement as someone bounded down the stairs. In a hurry, based on their heavy footsteps. Then she saw her younger sister Jen, casually round the corner, walking toward the door, a controlled smirk, that Lacey knew her sister to wear whenever she was excited. The door clicked open, loudly, against the cold, December night.
“Hey Lacey,” her sister casually mouthed.
“Jen! How are you!” blurted Lacey, less question, more gasp of elation.
“Not bad,” replied Jen, still trying, in her high school manner to keep her facade of disinterested cool intact.
“Ahhhhh,” What have you been up to?!?!,” inquired Lacey.
As the two girl exchanged pleasantries, the older girl’s sorority style speech, interspersed with valley girl inflections, and seemingly endless exclamation marks filled house as the girls settled into the living room where their parents were cuddled together on the oversized L-shaped sofa watching one of those macabre true crime shows that suburban households insatiably crave.
“Lacey, how was the drive?” her father asked as he stood, lumbering towards her, arms open for a hug.
Her mom smiled at her and did the same. The four chatted for a bit over the din of the TV. Her older sister, had recently graduated from college and had landed a job in the city. Her younger brother had recently returned home from college for his winter break and was spending the night at a friend’s ski house. It was just the four of them for the night.
After the initial intercourse of dialogue, Lacey interjected,
“Ughhh, I have to pee, I’ll be right back,” and she scampered to the half bath off the living room’s open floor plan.
Before she’d made it a few paces from the couch, her mom casually said, “Lacy, don’t forget, I scheduled your gyn appointment for tomorrow at 11:00, ok?”
She felt a flash of heat bolt through her body as she heard the words: gyn. She quickly nodded and continued to the bathroom.
She pulled her yoga pants and thong down together and planted her curvaceous bottom on the toilet seat. As she released a hot stream of urine, she looked down and noticed the unkempt state of pubic hair. “Gotta trim that before tomorrow,” she thought.
The idea – that in just a matter of hours her whole body would be exposed before doctor Jennings – made her hot with anxiety. Despite the drunken casual sex that characterized her college nights, the prospect of being spread eagle under the harsh halogen lights of her doctor’s shitty 1980s style office, staring at the false ceiling of fire-retardant tiles while a middle aged woman prodded her privates was just too much for Lacey.
She woke up the next morning, her hair disheveled, but her mind laser focused on one thing: the gynecologist. After undressing, she walked into the bathroom and performed her usual ablutions, only with much more precision, more focus. She would be on full display today.
As she stared at her body in the steamed up post-shower mirror, she took stock of her assets: Long, wavy hair. Radiant skin, still warm with the summer’s kiss. Bright, Crest-whitened smile. Neatly painted finger and toenails. Pert, B-cup breasts. Light, medium sized areolas, topped with perfectly plump nipples. Bellybutton bahis firmaları ring, tasteful, yet noticeable. Caramel eyes.
And best of all: her especially narrow waist that tapered into her voluptuous hips and cartoonishly nice ass.
Any sense of pride she felt while marveling at her body in the mirror quickly faded as she sped towards the doctor’s office. In its place grew an increasing unease. With each passing mile her heart rate felt like it increased tenfold. Her labia would be splayed, her asshole inches from this woman’s face. No alcohol to dull the awkwardness. And as sickly nervous as Lacey felt, there was the hint of arousal, a sensation she had not had prior to or during any of her previous five appointments with the gyno. “Strange,” she thought.
As she stepped out of the car, she felt awash in a wave of irony: her outfit, heavily clothed in layers of cloth, topped with her down winter jacket – all the comfort it provided – would soon be gone. She would be colder in the doctor’s office – wearing nothing but a paper gown – than she was as she stepped into the brisk December air.
She walked into the office and approached the receptionist, the same bubbly blonde that she remembered from last time.
“Hi, I’m Lacey Rogers, and I’m here for my appointment,” Lacey said, doing her best to sound upbeat.
“Hi Lacey, Doctor Jennings will be right with you, if you don’t mind having a seat,” the receptionist said as she gestured towards the waiting room – a room straddling the line between clinical and residential with its stark, efficient design and stacks of old issues of Cosmopolitan and Vanity Fair.
Lacey took a seat and fiddled with her phone, checking her various social media accounts before sending out a bevy of awkward, gyno-humor Snapchats to her sorority sisters.
“Lacey Rogers? We’re ready for you in exam room three,” a petite nurse beckoned.
Startled, Lacey got up and followed the nurse into the room. It was large and white and its broad, tinted windows overlooked the parking lot.
“Here’s your gown, just get undressed and I’ll be back in a sec to get your vitals. Ok,Lacey?”
Lacey nodded and feigned a smile.
“Great,” said the nurse as she pulled the door shut behind her.
All alone in the big white room, Lacey quickly began to take off her many layers, stacking her coat, the sweater, then top, then bra in a pile atop a chair in the corner.
She kicked off her beat-up converse low tops before jerkily sliding her yoga pants and thong down her smooth, tanned thighs. Feeling uncomfortably vulnerable she hurried to dawn the last bastion defending her modesty, the sickly aqua colored paper gown.
She took a seat in the chair beside the one housing her pile of clothes, and waited for what seemed like an eternity.
As she sat there glancing from meaningless poster to poster she became painfully aware of the huge windows behind her – could people see in? She thought back to when she walked up. The tint of the windows was such that she couldn’t make out the interiors of the upper floors, but the lower floors were unguarded to her gaze. She was now sitting in a room on the first floor.
There was a knock at the door and the handle twisted as the nurse, returning, pushed the door open.
“Alright, Hun, let’s start by getting your height and weight,” the nurse said as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Lacey stood up, pulling the gown close to her body, fiercely defending her modesty, as she walked over to the scale.
“Great. Now if you wouldn’t mind putting your hands at your sides so I can just slip in here and – “The nurse slid by Lacey and adjusted the weights on the scale.
“- Great, Hun. Now if you don’t mind I’ll have you stand against the wall over here,” she said as she motioned towards the blank white wall, with a tape measure-like device hung from the ceiling.
Lacey did as she was told, still clinging to her gown, like it was a life raft. The nurse pulled the tape measure down, until the flat plastic part on the bottom was level with the top of her head.
“Stand up straight, Hun. Perfect. One last thing, let me get your temperature.”
The nurse pulled a wand-like device out of her pocket and waved it over Lacey’s forehead until it beeped.
“Doctor Jennings will be right with you, Hun, ok?”
Lacey nodded, and the nurse left.
She sat down in one of the chairs in the corner. Alone again she felt even more embarrassed than when the nurse had been taking her measurements. She waited with a peculiar ambivalence: on the one hand hoping the doctor would hurry along and get this exam over with, and on the other, hoping that the doctor would never come – that she would never have to be subjected to the utter humiliation that she knew would soon befall her.
The door clicked open, no knock this time, as Doctor Jennings eased her way into the room, tablet PC in one hand, a large coffee mug in the other.
“Hi Lacey, kaçak iddaa good to see you again,” said the somewhat frazzled looking physician.
Her hair was wavy and brown like Lacey’s but frayed by years and stress. Her black framed glasses gave her a erudite sexiness that Lacey couldn’t help but notice each time they’d met. She wore a dark skirt and matching high heels. On top she wore a black, expensive-looking sweater that hugged her body, and a white lab coat complete with a stethoscope wrapped across her neck. Her ears were pierced with tasteful diamond earrings, but her hands and wrists were free of jewelry – for obvious reasons – Lacey thought.
“So I see that you’re here for your yearly?” Doctor Jennings asked as she looked at her tablet. She scrolled through a few pages and then looked up at Lacey who nervously stared back at her, before pulling up a rolling stool and sitting in front of her patient.
“So, let me start by asking you a few questions to update your records, ok, Lacy?”
Ok, so the basics: are you getting enough sleep? Eight to nine hours per night?”
“Yes… well, a little less on weekends,” Lacey laughed.
The doctor smiled, fondly remembering her college years, and continued on with the questions.
“Eating enough fruits and vegetables? Eight servings a day?”
“Wearing sunscreen?” the doctor asked taking note of Lacey’s tanned flesh.
“Any alcohol or drug use?”
“Not much on the drugs front, but I am a low-key savage when it comes to drinking”
Puzzled, the doctor said “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch the last part.”
“Ohh,” Lacey chuckled, “I mean I can drink … like a lot.”
“So more than two to three drinks in an hour?”
“Obvi… more like eight to ten,” laughed Lacey.
“I see,” said the doctor, “Lacey that is an exorbitant amount of alcohol and what we define as ‘binge drinking’ – you should really cut back, ok?”
Realizing the disparity between their two lifestyles, Lacey, nodded and went along with the doctor’s advice, but in her head she was thinking that this nerd would never understand the sorority lifestyle.
“Now the scary part,” said the doctor in a jocular tone, “Your sexual history. Are you in a relationship?”
Lacey laughed to herself. She hadn’t been in a monogamous relationship with anyone since high school, and even that one was marred by her own infidelities.
“No, doctor, I’m not.”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Do you use protection?”
Lacey most decidedly did not, but hoping to avoid another morality lecture she replied, “All the time, doc.”
“And when you do have intercourse does it include giving or receiving anal or oral stimulation?”
“On the oral front, mostly giving BJs, and on the anal front mostly receiving – guys love to lick me back there,” replied Lacey with a strange mix of sheepishness and pride. “Sometimes I let them fuck me back there, too.”
The doctor, startled by her patient’s frank comment, decided to move on. “Alright, let’s get the actual exam started. If you wouldn’t mind hopping up on the table.”
Lacey got up from her chair and nervously walked towards the exam table. There was a crinkling of paper as she modestly shimmed up.
Doctor Jennings got up from her stool and followed Lacey to the table. Now the two women were face to face, eye to eye.
Doctor Jennings sensing the palpable anxiety, broke the awkwardness with a smile and said, “Ok, I’ll just check your eyes and ears,” as she reached beside Lacey and pulled the Ophthalmoscope from the rack on the wall.
She checked the girl’s caramel colored eyes, left, then right.
“Everything looks good. Now let me grab the otoscope and we’ll check your ears. Great.”
Despite the seemingly pedestrian nature of these actions, Lacey’s cheeks began to flush. She could feel her whole body radiating heat, buzzing with warmth, as she felt a single bead of sweat drip from her armpit, and land on the top of her curvy hips, its path unimpeded by the loosely fitting exam gown.
As the doctor put the scope away, she reached around her neck and freed the stethoscope that she’d worn with the comfort of a much loved piece of jewelry. “Now, I’m just going to check your lungs.”
The doctor lightly dangled the stethoscope down, under the front of Lacey’s gown and guided the tip to her patient’s hot skin.
“Deep breath in… And out… One more. Ok, now the back. Same thing.”
Feeling light-headed from the deep gasps of air, Lacey felt relieved that her gown was still on.
“Let me just slip this down,” said Doctor Jennings as she gently tugged Lacey’s loose gown down to her bellybutton, exposing her perky 34Bs for the first time.
“Now I’m going to listen to your heart,” said the doctor.
As the older woman deftly moved her stethoscope around her patient’s breasts, Lacey could feel the contrast between the cold, metal disk, and her hot, soft skin.
Doctor kaçak bahis Jennings then lightly nudged Lacey forward as she applied the stethoscope to her back, continuing to listen to her patient’s now rapid heartbeat.
The doctor, finished with this section of the exam, draped the stethoscope back around her neck. “I’m not sure if your regular physician does this part of the exam Lacey, but now I am going to examine your breasts. Nothing to be afraid of,” Doctor Jennings chuckled.
She started with Lacey sitting upright, gently circling her fingers around the girl’s firm, young breasts. When she was done rubbing Lacey’s breasts, she asked the girl to lie down flat on the table, and repeated the process.
With the breast exam complete, both women knew what part of the exam was coming next; only Doctor Jennings knew how through it would be.
“Ok Lacey, if you wouldn’t mind following me to the exam chair, and we’ll finish up here.”
Lacey, quickly drew her gown back up and over her breasts, as she hopped of the exam table. She walked over to the chair and climbed onto it, awkwardly trying to expose as little as possible.
As soon as her legs were in the stirrups, Lacey noticed the acrid snapping sound of latex gloves. She looked over and saw Doctor Jennings’s latex covered hands.
Doctor Jennings, noticing the girl’s nervous gaze, gave an assuring half smile and wheeled the stool over, parking it and herself squarely in between the girl’s spread legs.
The doctor lightly placed her hand on the girl’s gown-covered thigh and said, “Ok, Lacey, the home stretch here. I’m just going to lift the gown up a bit … There, that’s good. Ok, now you’ll feel me place my hand on the outside of your vulva. Is that ok?”
Doctor Jennings looked up to gauge her patient’s comfort level, and saw the girl rigidly nodding yes.
“First, I’ll do a visual examination of your external genitalia, ok Lacey?” asked the doctor.
While the intonation read question, it was quite clear to both women that this was no question: what would be done would be done – the one woman’s would soon be in the other one’s vagina.
The doctor started by pushing the reticent girls legs a little wider apart. Then, she used her fingers to push the girls puffy outer lips apart, to get a better view of her clit and inner lips.
Holding the lips apart with her left thumb and forefinger, she used her right hand to lightly tug on the girls rather prominent inner lips, pulling them from side to side, to see them in their entirety.
“Everything looks really healthy here, Lacey. Now your just gonna feel me apply a bit of pressure to the skin above your pubic crest, as I move your clitoral hood back.”
The doctor placed her left hand on Lacey’s lightly trimmed patch of pubic hair and pushed the skin upward, which in turn partially exposed the girl’s clit.
Taking her right hand, the doctor expertly wrapped her thumb and pointer finger around the girl’s hood and pulled it up, fully revealing her glorious little clit. Unable to resist the urge, the doctor lightly touched the little button.
A soft moan escaped Lacey’s lips.
Doctor Jennings, then moved lower, spreading the girl’s legs and butt cheeks apart as she inspected the perineum and anus.
“Everything looks good here, Lacey, but I notice that you don’t have any pubic hair around your labia, perineum, or anus, and it doesn’t look like you shave?” asked the doctor in a puzzled tone.
“No, doctor, I get that part waxed, and I trim the hair above my pussy cause I think that’s what looks good. Being hairless underneath makes it a lot easier for the guys, hahahaha” chuckled Lacey.
“Oh… ok. Good, I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything abnormal in your pubic hair distribution. And the other thing is that I noticed that the skin around your anus is quite light in color, did you over-bleach your anus?”
“Hahaha, no Doctor, I have vitiligo, so the skin around my butthole doesn’t produce enough pigment – I know it’s really pale – my first boyfriend was so weirded out, and that was when I first realized I had it – when his head was in between my legs and he let out a yelp, hahah. It felt good though.”
“I see, I’ll make a note in your chart,” said Doctor Jennings, as she made a note in her head: “too much info.”
Picking up a plastic speculum from the cart next to her, Doctor Jennings said, “Ok Lacey, now I’ll begin the internal part of the exam.”
“I’m going to begin by inserting this device, called a speculum, into your vagina, Lacey. It will allow me to view the interior of your vulva, and your cervix. Then, while the speculum holds back the fleshy walls of your vagina, I will insert a small tool deep into your vagina to get a scrapping of the cells of your cervix – this is called a pap smear. Unfortunately, to conduct this part of the exam I cannot use any lubricant as it would interfere with the cells when they are examined in the lab. To help alleviate any discomfort you might feel – I know this is your first time – I’ll go nice and slow, ok?”
Lacey nodded yes.
Doctor Jennings, pushed the speculum up against the wrinkles of the Lacey’s pussy and applied a bit a pressure.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20